Saturday, 14 June 2014

523

Lucasta sat down in one of
the armchairs near the fire.

“My legs won’t let me stand too long my
knees you know so creaky and old I sometimes wonder at the Divinity letting us
go through all this decay and falling off quite horrid sometimes really though
I don’t know whether Canon Green
would approve of my sentiments dear man.”

Esmé sat cross-legged on the
floor on her right, Keith followed suit on her left. Graeme and Eleanor took the sofa and Jason
leant negligently against the mantelpiece.

“Will you go for a while
to live in France after you’ve graduated, my dear?” Lucasta’s glance at Esmé
was direct.

“Oh my dear so different
and so elegant but they treat cats badly poor things all these starving
creatures slinking about with all their ribs showing I used to feel so sorry
for them when I went there but such a beautiful country and somehow so much
grander than England the countryside I mean though not Scotland which is very
impressive and almost wild sometimes which I always loved when I used to go and
visit Lillibet at …” She stopped, and
cast a look of mute apology to Jason.

“Lillibet?” asked Esmé,
puzzled, feeling that she ought to know who all these people were, and feeling
inadequate as she often did.

“Yes well the Queen you
know whom I’ve known for years.” There
was no boastfulness about it; on the contrary, almost a shamed regret that she
had to mention it. And a lack of blether
which was quite revealing. Jason was
staring at his grandmother, his brow creased.